Con Man
by ardavenport
Summary: A con man gets conned in Jedha City.


**CON MAN**

by ardavenport

Varkris Blinder huffed up the last of the ancient white stone steps. Apparently the holy city did not believe in elevators . . . or moving walkways or transports or any of the other civilized conveniences that he was used to on more advanced worlds with better pickings than ragged pilgrims and religious fanatics.

His destination was a little better than the warrens of crowded, dusty alleys and greasy street food below. He stood under a shade tree amidst the morass of Jedha City roof-levels, random temples and shrines spread out under the terrace he stood on. Brushing off his suit, he surveyed the area; the pilgrim trade brought in enough higher class devotees to support the shaded, open-air eating establishment he stood outside, though on the core worlds of the Republic, it would have been middling quality at best. He had indulged himself the first night he arrived and scammed a free meal for himself by sticking a wealthy matron with the tab at this place.

Patting the thinning hair on his head, he peered at the entrance. The serving droid, barrel-bodied with white and blue markings, stood behind the reception desk, eye sensors down at its computer screen. It was tough to fool a droid; they were so literal, all sensors and data recorders. He probably would have played it safe and not returned. But he had an appointment that he had to keep.

There were no mirrors about, not even a shiny surface, so Blinder gave himself a one-over as best he could. The dark skin of his hands looked a bit dusty with age, especially in the bright light of Jedha's primary. That, along with the increasing amount of shiny scalp showing through his retreating hairline were the inevitable signs of aging for Humans like him.

As ready as he could be, he squared his shoulders, confidently strolled over to the entrance and presented himself. The droid's eye sensors locked onto him and he was sure he'd been ID'ed, but he spoke before the machine could.

"I'm here to meet the 'Jinn' party."

The glowing eye-sensors blinked. The metalloid head looked down at its screen, then back up at him.

"I am expected."

Down, up. Down, up.

Then it straightened and pressed a control on its console; something beeped back in return. A server-droid appeared; a similar model, but slimmer in head and body and with more appendages.

"Right this way, Sir."

With a smug glance back at the head droid, he followed the server into the dining area.

This was the closest Jedha City could offer by way of 'fine dining'. The droid led him through the round tables and generic chairs suitable for the bottoms of multiple species. It was past the usual midday meal time, so the place was mostly empty. The 'Jinn' party was seated at the edge of the terrace with a beautiful view of the city plateau, the enormous Temple of the Kyber dominating one end, the flat, tan and orange desert beyond it. There was even a faint sheen of a screening force field to keep out the dust and tiny bugs that seemed to infest every desert he had been unfortunate enough to find himself in no matter how lifeless it looked.

Blinder was dismayed to see two of them, dressed in brown robes, like so many of the wandering pilgrims in the alleys and choking the temples. But on the upside, they had already ordered an appetizer. And they were Human, a similar type to him, so he did not have to worry about any spitting from the three-eyed flunky that Garatini usually sent to do his errands.

They looked up at him with blank, pale faces. The smaller male had the hood of his robe up, a youthful face with pale gray eyes. A little young to be acting as one of Garatini's enforcers, which could be worrying. The young and small ones often made up for it by being extra slimo and sometimes just plain weird.

The larger male, who was clearly in charge, was big and broad, older and hairy, with long brown hair, tied back from his face, beard and mustache. He looked about Blinder's age, with only a touch of gray, hardly noticeable, but the slight, asymmetric bulge to his nose hinted that he had been the recipient and possible deliverer of violence in his past. And he was someone who did not care if anyone noticed it.

Next to the place setting before him was one of Garatini's coms, identical to the one in Blinder's pocket.

"You're Jinn, right?"

The large one inclined his head, lowering his dark blue eyes in a minimal confirmation.

"Ah, and you are . . . ?"

There was a silence that seemed only uncomfortable for Blinder before Jinn introduced his companion.

"Obi-Wan."

Blinder slid into a chair opposite him and reached for the flayet seed sticks. "Hope you don't mind." Jinn again tilted his head forward in ascent as Blinder dolloped a generous amount of sauce into a small bowl from the stack next to the basket of grain sticks. Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as if Blinder was not welcome to take their food. Blinder ignored him; if he wanted any, he could help himself, but neither of the two had so far. No point in wasting it.

The sticks were crunchy and salty, the sauce, savory with a hint of a floral scent. Very nice.

"So," he began after his hosts sat observing him while he ate, "I bet Garatinit wants to hear about how well I'm doing here."

Jinn raised his browns, "I understand that Garatini is unsatisfied with your progress; that you have not delivered his 'special items'."

"Yeah, but I've been working on it. I've been working real hard, but," he leaned forward, lowering his voice and punctuating his words with the bitten off end of his flayet, "Garatini might have warned me what kind of hard cases these Whills people are."

"That is not Garatini's concern. He has . . . customers for the items you were assigned to retrieve. To pay off your debt."

Blinder grit his teeth. Garatini owned the largest casino in the Travit system. A great hunting ground for rubes looking to make it big; they practically gave their money away for even the oldest and flimsiest scams: cheap options on decrepit spaceports on space-lanes that were on the verge of becoming the next hottest trading routes; forgotten mineral deposits on obscure moons that needed just 'a little bit' of seed money for the miners to swoop in and make a killing for their investors; even the creaky old trick of a down-and-out droid owner selling their machine for a fraction of its worth for desperately needed quick cash from a 'generous' person who would later discover that the high-end chassis on their new purchase concealed a binary brain. But in a moment of weakness, (actually a long night) Blinder had gone against his own wisdom and bet against Garatini's house. And lost.

Garatini's goons had rousted him out of his rented room and dragged him up to their boss's opulent high-rise office. The businessman (crime lord) was already well aware of Blinder's 'special skills' with separating people from their money and had offered him a 'job' that would erase his debt. And even earn him an injury-free, one-way ticket out of the Travit system. Blinder had immediately accepted as he eyed the thugs sharpening their claws in the back of the office.

He had heard of kyber crystals (Blinder always had his antenna out for anything of significant monetary value), but he never thought about where they came from or what collectors saw in them. For this job, they were just another item that he could trick people out of. On his way out of Gratini's office (escorted by a couple burly, armored toughs), he had mistakenly thought that the job would be simple, even fun. But his heart sank as soon as he stepped off the transport to Jedha. It was one of those places that people called 'ancient' to give it a little bit of un-earned class. It was a run-down dump. Gritty, dirty and it smelled bad with too many multi-species bodies crammed into too small a city without proper air circulation.

Worst of all, the primary industry of the city was religion. A religion powered by kyber crystals, thus explaining their rarity and allure to collectors looking for the next best forbidden item. It was full of pilgrims, mystics and holy personages who were so poor that they did not even know how lowly they were.

"I have made a lot of progress," he assured, finishing off his flayet before pouring himself a cup of water from the pitcher in the center of the table and picking out another stick.

"Indeed." Jinn sounded unimpressed. He spooned a big dollop of sauce into a bowl and put it in front of his younger companion along with the basket. Obi-Wan lowered his head, his hood not quite concealing a little embarrassment but he took up a flayet stick. Jinn then served his himself and poured water for both of them.

"How would you define progress?" Jinn invited with a little gesture of his free hand. He did not seem angry or threatening; Blinder took that as a good sign that Garatini was not too upset with his failure to deliver. Yet.

He glanced around them before speaking; all the tables next to theirs were empty. "Look, it's not like I haven't been trying, but these people . . . they're nuts." He dipped his stick into the sauce and took a bite. "They don't know what living is," he said around his food. "They're sitting on this huge fortune like it's a pile of worthless rocks and can't see past praying and mumbling in dark rooms, staring into nothing. And the Guardians . . . " He waved his stick in his exasperation, suddenly incredibly relieved to be talking to someone who understood his problem. "It's like they've got eyes everywhere, but they're just Humans - - like us - - but if you touch one teeny-tiny crystal that's smaller than a pifraw seed," he held up thumb and forefinger to demonstrate, "they're on you in a micro-second. And those 'traditional' weapons they carry? They might look big and clumsy, but they'll get you just as dead as a blaster.

He sat back and vented his frustration. "They're sitting on a fortune. Literally _sitting_ on a literal fortune. They could be skimming off just the scraps - - that no one would notice - - and they'd be rolling in it . . . or at least they'd be able to afford to fix this place up. And no one, NO ONE, would notice. But don't even suggest it to them." He waved his hands as if to ward off the memory. "They - - they don't take it well."

"Indeed?" Jinn nibbled his flayet.

"Well, let's just say it's a good thing that I always plan to make a quick escape. But," he leaned forward, "I think there's a way."

Jinn looked curious. Obi-Wan paused mid-crunch into a dripping flayet stick.

"Please elaborate," Jinn invited with a little sweep of two fingers of his hand.

Warming to the two, Blinder leaned closer. "The key is how much they've got; too much for their own good if you ask me. And they let people, pilgrims, come in to see it, to pray or gawk or whatever they get off on.

"What I'm thinking is that a person can come in loaded with decoys. Cheap crystals that look like these kybers, but aren't. They sell trinkets made out of them everywhere around here for the tourists. I've already got them."

"So, you plan to switch these fakes for the kyber crystals? I doubt that the Guardians would be so easily fooled," Jinn dismissed the start of the plan and bit into another flayet stick.

"No, no, they wouldn't be fooled," Blinder agreed. "But that's not what we'd be doing. So picture this . . .

"You come in with a bunch of these things, packed into a blow bladder - - one of those things they use at parties to spread sparklies around - - "

From the blank stares on the two faces, Blinder was pretty sure that they did not know anything about this trick. He kept going.

"You get into a crowd of these pilgrims with this, right in the temple, and when these Whills guys aren't looking right at you - - BOOM! - - you set it off. And all the fakes go flying over everyone's heads, everywhere. And you know what happens next?"

Jinn and Obi-Wan exchanged looks, but neither one took Blinder's lead and he had to answer his own question.

"Chaos breaks out. Everybody scrambles around to grab them, like dropping free money onto a crowd. And in the confusion, that's when we make the grab. With all that going on there's no way the Guardians can keep up. We grab as much as we can and get out. We've got a transport running outside; jump in and head right for your ship - - you have a ship, right? - - and we're off the planet before they can get us.

"What do you think?"

The long silence stretched out. Everyone had stopped eating. Obi-Wan finally spoke.

"If you have scattered a large number of fakes among the kyber crystals, and you must work quickly, how could you be sure you would be gathering the real ones, and not the fakes?"

Blinder opened his mouth and stopped. That was actually a very good point.

"We just grab a lot of them, all right? They won't all be fakes and we can sort them out later." He pressed on. "I'm not saying that my plan doesn't need a little refinement. But I'm sure this is the way to go. Distraction - - overwhelming chaos is the only way to get in and past those Guardians and get out again in one piece."

Jinn silently sipped his water. Obi-Wan kept looking between the two of them and started to speak, but Jinn shut him up with a raised hand.

"I think," he announced, "that we should have a look at this . . . blow bladder . . . and any other preparations you might have made. And perhaps we can . . . refine your plans." He put his cup down and Blinder liked the look in his eye.

He slapped the table. "That's what I like to hear. Initiative." Pushing his chair back, he got up and the others did as well. He was momentarily taken aback by Jinn's height and broad build, obvious even in the brown robes that covered both of them head to foot. Jinn paused to put his own hood up over his head.

"Dressing like the natives here, eh?"

"It seems appropriate," Jinn conceded.

"Well, next time, you want to get clothes that match to blend in better," he pointed at Obi-Wan's full, medium-brown robe and Jinn's much darker one that hung straight down from his broad shoulders. "Makes you look more like you belong to some mystical order or something. They travel in packs around here."

They were halfway down the stairs before Blinder realized that they had walked out without paying. He stopped, fretfully looking behind him, but there was no aggrieved owner and many-limbed server droids coming after them, or the alarm of the local authorities descending from above. He looked up at Jinn looming over him like a vengeful shadow, blocking out the sun.

"You've got a tab running with them?" He pointed back the way they had come.

"We have . . . an arrangement," he answered, completely unconcerned. Blinder nodded and had to remind himself that he was Garatini's muscle and probably had his own . . . special ways of getting what he wanted; it was probably best not to ask too many questions.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Blinder led the way through the throngs, locals and pilgrims, mixed in and perpetually jostling as they went about their pathetic, pointless lives.

Except that the jostling was not nearly as bad as usual. Jinn kept a bit closer than he liked, the bigger man's hand on his shoulder. But his size had a positive effect on the crowds that backed away as they approached, people looked away and sometimes even bowed their heads toward them. Jinn had to be a pretty potent enforcer if he had effect on people. Before they were halfway to his place, Blinder was beginning to think that Jinn could be much more than that.

"So, have you ever thought about doing more than just Garatini's errands?" he asked as a row of red-robed Disciples of the Whills backed away and lowered their heads as they passed.

"Not really," Jinn admitted.

"Well, you should. You really should." They crossed a courtyard and as they passed the food sellers briefly stopped shouting for people to buy their grubby food. "You've got a natural talent with people. Easy to talk to, not too threatening, but you command respect." They reached the row of shabby white stone buildings where Blinder rented his room. "That's something you really need if you want to be successful in my kind of work."

"Thank-you."

No lifts here, just three flights of stairs to the top and a shared fresher for the floor, not a pleasant situation if the Mazikin at the end of the hall got there first in the morning. Inside his room, he showed them the blow bladder and the scoop nets for collecting the scattered booty. There wasn't enough room to demonstrate the nets to them, but Jinn said that they would have no problem with them. Confident that he knew his business, Blinder cast off his outer clothes and picked up the red Whills robe. Obi-Wan fingered the other vestments hung up around the sleeping mat and inquired about them.

"Well, I didn't want those Whills spotting me, so I picked up a few extra outfits to wear while I was scoping the place out."

Obi-Wan tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"All right, I'm not proud of it," he blurted out. "But I had to make some living expenses. Garatini didn't give me much of a stake to work with on this job, certainly not to live in the style that I'm accustomed. That I _deserve_ when I get these kybers for him." He shrugged. "And the holy man act, it's not too bad of a scan. I might try it after I get off of this rock . . . on a classier scale, of course. But even just working the streets, you play it right, people just hand you money. Free food." His lip curled and he touched his stomach. "But you've got to be careful about the food. Like they say, you get what you pay for."

Obi-Wan glowered back at him. That annoyed Blinder.

"Oh, like and your boss here aren't dressed up like monks, too?

"That kid talks too much," he grumbled to Jinn, who only smiled back. They gathered their equipment, the blow bladder going into an enormous red pack that Jinn helped him into. He had to give the scoop nets to Jinn and Obi-Wan. He could not carry the pack and a net for gathering the crystals. He would have to settle for grabbing what he could with his bare hands and arms. They left together.

When they reached the street, Jinn stopped them. "We have friends back at our ship. They could arrange for a fast transport for you back there. Obi-Wan will arrange it."

"Ma - - " Jinn silenced him again with a wave.

"See to it, Obi-Wan. And join us at the main entrance to the Temple of the Kyber, please."

Rebellion in his eyes, Obi-Wan did as he was told and left.

"Hey, why don't your friends come to help out. The more people in this, the more chaos and confusion we can generate, the better."

Jinn waved his hand, dismissing the idea. "Oh, they would not be useful for this kind of thing. And they don't have the proper clothes. Shall we go?" Jinn waved them forward. The walk there wasn't too bad and Blinder again remarked upon Jinn's talent and instant respect he inspired in the people who stepped out of their way.

"You are a natural. You could really go far. With a little help from me," he put a modest hand to his chest. "I mean, you're good, but you still need me to help you along, show you the right channels to use. Polish those rough edges you've got."

"I shall consider it."

"But you've got to dump that kid. He's way too much trouble."

Jinn chuckled as they negotiated a narrow alley, the other pedestrians backing up out of their way.

"He can be that at times," Jinn agreed.

The white stone main entrance of the Temple of the Kyber stood open for the daily pilgrims and they did not have to wait long behind a tall bush before Obi-Wan came running after them, clutching the front of his brown robe to him like a modest penitent.

"Are you sure we need this kid?" Blinder complained, hefting his pack.

"Oh, yes. Obi-Wan can be very resourceful."

"All right, then. You," he pointed, "get behind me." Looking sullen Obi-Wan took his position.

"And you get ahead of me. You've got a natural talent with these religious types. Must be that robe."

They moved forward together. On his earlier forays probing the Kyber Temple, he had tried out the smaller side entrances, hoping that they would be less guarded, but no such luck. They mixed in with the slow moving crowd. Watchful, and very armed, black and red robed Guardians stood by either side of the wide archway.

It was cooler, darker inside and Blinder blinked, his eyes adjusting to the artificial lights hanging from heavy chains from the high ceiling. They moved slowly through a hall of many columns and statues and beyond them were the elusive kyber crystals embedded in the hewn rock walls. Some of the pilgrims went to the side and knelt among the columns. The Guardians posted at each column would turn toward them with calm glances. Up ahead, people filed around a central platform, some stopping with the crowd, others moving on, joining the slow-stepping queue of people leaving toward the sunlight pouring in from the entryway.

It was pretty pointless as far as Blinder could tell. The only things on the platform were kyber crystals, a few big ones on stands in the middle and bowls of littler ones around them. The kybers themselves were not that impressive, no more flashy than quartz or calcite or mianas minerals. This Force business was the most boring liturgy that Blinder had ever heard of. If there were any monsters or things bursting into flame or unnatural acts with close family members or anything else that would make it interesting, they kept it hidden away pretty well. Just a pervasive mystical energy connecting all living things. It amazed Blinder that these people could waste so much time on something that was obviously nothing at all.

Crazy. They had to be crazy.

He nudged Jinn in the back.

"Get ready," he whispered. They slowly moved into the thickest part of the crowd toward a spot closest to the main platform. Red-robed disciples sat on padded stone pedestals arranged in a circle around the kyber crystal platform.

Blinder fingered the switch on the remote in his palm. The flap on his pack was loose and would pop right off when he activated the bladder.

"Get your nets ready . . . "

Just a few steps more . . .

Fff-ffff-fff-ACKKKK!

Everyone around them satisfyingly jumped away from the noise and a second later it was raining crystals. Blinder shoved a red-robed body aside and scrambled up onto the main platform, diving for his target. He managed to scoop up four bowls, stacked on each other, crystals flying everywhere. Scrambling to his feet, he whirled around . . .

Everyone was staring at him. No one at all had so much as bent over to pick up even one his fakes.

Including Jinn and his kid.

It did not even look like they were even carrying the scoop nets he gave them.

Blinder lost one of his bowls, more crystals pattering down to the pedestal and the floor as he narrowly dodged the black pole aimed at his head. Another bowl went flying as a second Guardian came after him.

"Jinn!" he shouted, angry at the inexplicable betrayal. The last two bowls and crystals went clattering to the floor as the leapt back toward the two. If the Guardians were going to get him, then he was going to triple-back-up make sure that they got these two treacherous slimos, too. The other robed figures fell away out of his path to them.

Fff-zzz-zzzzzz-ttttt!

Blinder stopped just short of them, gasping at the sudden bright flashes and the ominous low energy hum. He cautiously peered over his shoulder.

Lightsabers.

"He is ours," Jinn announced.

The two bright plasma blades cast unnatural blue and green light on the shocked faces of the people hastily backing away from the possibility of instant amputation. But they were not aimed at cutting off any of Blinder's parts.

They were blocking the Guardians who had been coming after him.

An older Guardian, probably the one in charge, grimaced his displeasure, but he stood back from his fighting stance, holding his staff and lightbow to the side and lowering them. The others did the same.

"As you wish, Master Jedi." He and the other Guardians lowered themselves to their knees and bowed so low their foreheads touched the patterned stone floor.

"Are you done with these theatrics now, Master Qui-Gon?" a new voice demanded. On his right, Blinder saw three yellow-robed pilgrims throw off their outer clothes, revealing blue uniforms that made him cringe.

Republic Judiciary.

There were two Twi'leks and a Bith. The older Twi'lek with faded dark blue skin and bulging brow ridges snarled, revealing his pointed, yellowing teeth. He wore an inspector's badge and rank insignia. The Bith held a set of binders that Blinder backed away from, but Jinn firmly grasped his shoulder with a grip of shocking strength.

"I think you will do better with the Inspector back on Travit than you would with the Abbot's men here." Jinn gestured toward the Guardians who were now standing and glaring at him. Blinder hastily agreed and allowed the Bith to cuff his hands behind his back.

"You could have just talked to him back at the restaurant," the inspector hissed.

Jinn shrugged, all innocence. "You seemed concerned that you might not have the proper evidence of his criminal intent. I merely wished to ensure that you had what you needed."

"The testimony of Garatini and his crew would have been enough for a conviction if he wasn't up to confessing."

Jinn just shrugged again. "I assume you no longer need our help?"

The Inspector hissed his agreement.

"Then we will get our own transport back to Coruscant."

The Inspector grunted an 'As you wish', obviously not unhappy to be parting with the Jedi while Blinder's brain finally wrapped itself around what had happened to him as the Bith started to drag him off.

"A Jedi . . . I knew it!"

He twisted his body, almost tripping on a loose crystal and turning his head back as well as he could with the Bith firmly holding onto his bound hands. "I knew it, Jinn! You're a natural!

Obi-Wan folded his arms into the opposite sleeves of his robe and surveyed the Temple while the Guardians herded the pilgrims out.

"You are disturbed, my Padawan." Qui-Gon Jinn stood by him, his arms tucked away into his sleeves as well.

"Was this deception necessary?" he asked

"Possibly not, but it seemed appropriate." He closed his eyes, head up. "This is your first visit to Jedha, my Padawan. What about it disturbs you?"

Obi-Wan lowered his head, acknowledging his Master's unerring awareness of his true mood. The large hall echoed with the occasional shout from the Guardians as they hustled aggrieved pilgrims away. The huge room was lined with many white pillars and statues, the floor inlaid with familiar patterns. The resemblance was obvious.

The Diciples of the Whills claimed that the ancient Jedi Order patterned itself on them. The Jedi Order claimed exactly the opposite. In spite of the disagreement, relations between the two orders were amicable. Their beliefs, practices and the architecture of their sacred places were strikingly similar. With one significant difference.

"Master, the Guardians and Disciples here have devoted their lives the harmony of the Force."

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed. The huge doors to the outside slid slowly closed, the rumble and clangs filling the hall, cutting off the daylight and the hot breeze from outside. A faintly sweet aroma of burnt plant matter scented the air inside.

"But these people . . . they are completely blind to it. To the Force."

"Not all of them, not completely . . . but most," Qui-Gon conceded.

"Not all of them?" Obi-Wan looked up at his Master.

"You need to look more closely, my Padawan." He turned his head, looking down to him with a half-smile.

Obi-Wan nodded. "But Master," he persisted, "Even if some of them have some true awareness of the Force, what of the others?"

"Do you consider their lives wasted? Because they devote themselves to ideals that so closely mirror the Jedi Code, even though they do not feel the Force flowing through them as we do?"

"No, Master," he hastily replied.

"Do you feel the Force flowing through them any less than it does through all living things?"

"No, of course not, Master. But . . . " Obi-Wan bit his lip. "Does it not flow differently through us than it does through them?"

"Does it?" Qui-Gon smiled, raising his brows. Lifting a hand, a crystal floated up from the ones scattered all over the floor. He held it up. It was one of the fakes. "I think we shall stay here for the next few days, so we may become better acquainted. And you may answer your questions. Or find new ones."

They turned at the sound of many running feet. A line of young acolytes carrying extendable grabber poles and other collection tools hastily stopped when they recognized the Jedi. They all bowed low to them.

"Please," Qui-Gon raised a hand to stop them. "We should handle this."

The acolytes backed up, some of them looking toward their elders who were returning from chasing out the last of the pilgrims. Qui-Gon held out the fake crystal and it floated over to Obi-Wan who snatched it from the air.

Extending his hand again, Qui-Gon called a kyber crystal from the mess on the floor. Holding it up, he went to one of the pedestals around the central kyber platform.

"May I?" he inquired politely. The Disciple seated there hastily scrambled off. A second Disciple vacated the pedestal next to it as soon as Obi-Wan took a step toward it.

The two Jedi faced each other, seated on the pedestals and closed their eyes. Clearing his mind, Obi-Wan felt the kyber crystals scattered around him, pinpricks of light that glowed brighter as the Force aligned with them, with Qui-Gon who slowly raised his hands, lifting them up and guiding them back toward the others over the platform. The fakes, mere transparent stones, were still visible and Obi-Wan pushed them the other way. They slid off the platform and pattered away from it across the floor like little feet until they were all together in a line on the other side of their two pedestals. The kyber crystals all drifted in the air for a long moment afterwards.

Qui-Gon was over-doing it.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see the crystals, a twinkling cloud glowing with the amplified energy of the Force, guided by a Jedi Master.

They settled back down to the platform, the glow fading until they became inert crystals again. Every acolyte, Disciple and Guardian knelt on the floor around them. Qui-Gon smoothly slid his legs off of his pedestal and went to stand before the platform, his arms neatly tucked into the sleeves of his robe. Obi-Wan joined him.

"Master," Obi-Wan whispered, leaning closer to the taller man. "I think they were supposed to go into the bowls."

The once reverent display was now a huge, untidy, sparkling pile. Worse than that, Qui-Gon had lifted up all the kyber crystals, not just the ones that Blinder tried to steal. A couple of the bowls lay on their sides where they had fallen. And one of the big kyber crystals tilted a bit more than it should have in its stand.

Obi-Wan cringed a moment later when it crashed down into the pile. It was not damaged, but the sound was like a thunderclap in the silence.

Someone cleared their throat behind them. Qui-Gon turned his head. The senior Guardian of the Whills stood, hands on his hips. He was not bowing now. The Jedi turned toward him - -

The toe of Qui-Gon's boot caught one of the fallen bowls and it went skittering across the floor. Pressing his lips together, he inhaled and exhaled slowly. He reached his hand out to retrieve the bowl.

A couple of acolytes dove out of the way of its trajectory, scattering a few of the fake crystals lying in Obi-Wan's polite line on the floor. Neatly catching it, Qui-Gon held it up, an empty offering.

The Guardian of the Whills was not impressed and Obi-Wan turned to stand with and slightly behind his guilty Master.

"Perhaps," Qui-Gon conceded, "We need your help."

 **o o END o o**

 **Disclaimer:** This story first posted on tf.n on - - - . All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to Disney/Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.

A con man gets conned in Jedha City.


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